Unsteady
by Kagaroon
Summary: Katniss is tossed into the world of the Capitol and the Games, but the Capitol has broken her. In a world dominated by violence and corruption, who is left to pick up Katniss' pieces? Finnick and Katniss pairing to come later in the story.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** What? I'm actually active? While I know I've made empty promises to complete my other Finnick/Katniss FanFiction, I just can't bring myself to finish it. After looking back on it, I can see now that it is very, VERY rough. I want a chance to start over, fresh, new, and back again with my favorite pairing. So here it goes, here goes my attempt to put out the best Finnick/Katniss story to ever walk this domain known as (because frankly, we need more Finnick/Katniss).

 **PS:** Yes, yes, it says Finnick and Katniss. Although it might not seem like that in the FIRST FEW CHAPTERS, don't worry, my favorite pairing shall emerge from the ashes.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own the Hunger Games. In case you didn't realize, I'm not Suzanne Collins.

* * *

 **Katniss' POV:**

The tune of the birds awaken me from my sleep. The sun sneaks past the dirty window and the half-drawn curtain, only to hit me right in the eyes. I inwardly sigh as I force myself to get up from my bed. Quietly, so as not to wake Prim who is still sleeping, I slide into my father's leather jacket and brown boots. The originally rough material has worn down over years of constant use. I take in the smell of the leather, imagining my father's scent; he smelled like the forest, fresh and green, with a mixture of smoke and coal.

My father spent a lot of time down in the mines, but every day, even if he was late, he kissed my forehead before leaving in the morning and when he arrived home late at night. Then one evening, I didn't get a good night kiss. I sat on my bed and waited all night for him. I could hear my mom whispering, almost crying in the kitchen. They told me he was gone. I remember calling for him, screaming desperately into empty nothingness, but he was _gone_. The rest passed in a blur: going to the Justice Building, attending the funeral, collecting the money for his death, and meeting Gale. Gale's father died in the accident too. It was something we shared over the years, that and a desperate need for food.

Together, Gale and I supported each other. We worked together like a machine, and gradually over the years, we became a well-oiled machine. When we're together, we're always on the same tempo, whether it be at school or in the forest, Gale always knows what I am thinking. Prim's voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Where are you going Katniss?" she asks, as her small head peaks outs from underneath the covers.

"Just to the forest. I'll be back soon," and with that, I kiss her forehead and leave.

I cross the fence and trek deeper into the forest. I've always loved the smell of early morning dew, the never-ending extent of greenery, and the way the forest is always so filled with life. The forest offers protection no one else can give me; it shields me from the horrors of District 12, of Panem, and of the Games.

I make my way to my favorite spot in the forest, a small alcove tucked away in the trees. At the center of the nook lay a pond surrounded by Primroses and Katniss plants. I discovered this place after my father died, and only Gale knows about it. It's so serene and peaceful that when I'm here, nothing else matters in the world. It's my bubble, and I'm frozen in time. I just sit thinking. Today is Saturday which means tomorrow is Sunday, Reaping Sunday. The thought of Prim having a chance to be reaped scares me. Prim, my sweet little Prim, Prim who has brought me so much joy and happiness, Prim, my Primrose in a sea of dandelions.

"Wow, I wonder what's got you this deep in thought," Gale says making me jump, "No one _ever_ sneaks up on Katniss Everdeen."

I swivel to look at him only to catch him smiling at me, a smile that makes my heart jump more than I just did a few seconds ago. He finds a seat on the rock next to me, leaving less than a centimeter between us. I am acutely aware of how close he is to me; his warm body radiates off heat. Things between Gale and I just sort of happened, one day we were just friends, and the next day, we were more than that. I'm not entirely sure if I like it, but it is definitely something different.

We just sit in silence for a few minutes, both of us acknowledging the anxiety tomorrow brings.

I notice he's hiding a brown bag near his feet, so I reach to grab it to see what's inside. I bend over and attempt to snatch it away, but my short arms and Gale's long legs fail me. Gale grabs me and flips me over so I'm staring up into eyes.

"Curious today, are we Catnip?" He asks teasingly. "Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'Don't touch what's not yours'?"

I pouted jokingly, and Gale leans closer.

"Now, now, I'll show you what's inside, but there's a price to be paid…" He says with a smirk, leaning in even closer. Our lips are a centimeter apart. His hand makes his way behind my head, cradling it and pulling me even closer. His eyes closes, and I know now's my chance. In one swift motion, I peck his lips, reach down, grab the brown bag, and untangle myself from his embrace. He opens his eyes shocked, and I smile at him with an extra glimmer in my eye.

"Well I guess what we've learned today is that we both can be taken off guard," I say with a shrug, still grinning at him. "Let's see. What have we got in here?" I ask opening up the bag. I look inside and gasp, inside lies a bottle of wine. In District 12, wine is only used for special occasions of celebrations like weddings. Bottles of wine are usually pretty expensive, even when snagged from the black market; it's just a luxury most people in District 12 never get to have. I'm surprised Gale bought a bottle, especially with the constant financial strain we are all under here in 12.

I pull out the bottle and look at Gale questioningly.

"Exactly six years ago, right here on this very rock, we talked for hours about our first reaping that would be happening the next day. Tomorrow marks our last reaping. Our last chance to be taken by the Capitol and sucked into their world. I think that's cause for celebration because after tomorrow, we finally have a real shot…" He says trailing off.

I am truly at a loss for words. I've never been the type to express my feelings through words. Instead, I believe that actions speak louder than words, so I do just that. I take Gale's hand and press it to my lips. It's not a sign of a promise, but a sign of hope. A hope to a life forever preserved in this moment, in this alcove, with Gale by my side.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Most of y'all probably don't read this, but in case you were wondering, I will push myself to finish this story. Yes, I've said this before, but I have a different plan this time. I will be writing ahead, to make sure I stay on track. Alrighty that is all for now. Sorry if this chapter is filler, I needed a transition into the Capitol and the Games.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own the Hunger Games, so shout out to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

 **Katniss' POV:**

One ticket, one out of hundreds, those were her chances. Almost nothing. It makes me wonder, when are the odds truly in your favor? I realize the answer is never.

After Prim's name was called, I don't remember thinking about what to do, I just did. I volunteered for the 68th annual Hunger Games. Worst of all, the boy with the bread was accompanying me to my death.

As I lay on the bed, on a train headed straight for the Capitol, I wonder how I went from my perfect alcove with Gale, to essentially, a death-sentence just for the fun of it.

Everything blurred together. I volunteered, Peeta's name was drawn, we were ushered to the Justice Building and allowed precisely 2 hours to gather our things and say our goodbyes. I went to Madge, to the Hob, to my family, then straight to the woods with Gale. We simply sat together, too stunned to say anything. Then, just like that, it was time to leave. My 2 hours seemed to have lasted for 2 minutes. Before boarding the train, I made a promise to Prim. I promised her I would come back for her, that I would do everything and anything within my power to see her again. I made a promise, and now, I _will_ come out of that arena alive because Katniss Everdeen _never_ breaks her promises.

* * *

I sit in the back of the train and look out the window. I watch the trees speed out of view as the train zooms out of District 12 and deeper into the unknown. I think about Prim. Will she be okay with me gone? What about our mother? I know Gale will take care of them; it's a part of who he is. _Gale_. How did it get to this? There seems to be a million days between now and our day in the woods.

I hear something creak behind me, and I turn my attention to the door. Peeta walks in carrying two buns. He smiles and finds a seat next to me, handing me one of the buns.

"They're from the bakery," he says. I thank him and silently nibble on it. The bread is warm in my hands; not the type of freshly-baked warm, but more lukewarm, like a cup of coffee that's been sitting out.

"Thank you… for the bread," I say. I wasn't just thanking him for the bread today, but for the bread he shared with me several years ago. His simple action gave me hope, refilled me with life, and essentially, saved me and my family. Words cannot express the gratitude I felt after that day, the same gratitude that still continues to this day.

"Why'd you do it?" I ask, "Why did you take a beating for me?"

He shrugs, "Because you needed it. It was the right thing to do." His voice filled with warmth. Peeta is like that, he's warm, and friendly, and open. After all, he is the boy with the bread.

We just talk. He tells me about his favorite food and his mother's baking. I learn about his family, how he was an only-child, how he loves the smell of bread fresh out of the oven. He likes to draw, especially paint. He tells me his favorite color is orange, like the sunset. We just talk about school, our homes, our family, anything but the future that looms ahead of us. I dare not mention the upcoming Games; instead, our conversations are filled with mindless talk meant to distract. Together, we watch as the sun sets behind the horizon: a sunset that signals the start to our new lives. Whether we admit or not, we are never going to be able to go back from here.

* * *

The click of heels approaching pulls me from my thoughts; I check to see if Peeta notices, but he seems to be in a daze. Our escort, Effie Trinket, peaks her head out from behind the door and warns up that we are approaching the Capitol. Her cheerful tone startles Peeta, awakening him from his trance. I nod my head at her, and with that, she disappears behind the door, the sound of her heels fading with the distance.

Peeta looks at me solemnly and says, "So it begins."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I'm taking this story really slowly, so try not to get too anxious J Just sit back, relax, and enjoy

 **Disclaimer:** All rights belong to Suzanne Collins who writes these great books.

* * *

 **Katniss' POV:**

It's been three days. Three days since I left home. Three days since I volunteered. Three days since I've been whisked away and thrown into this world.

I look across the city, as I sit on the roof of the Tribute Center. The resources are limitless here. The Capitol burns through more energy in one night than District 12 does in a whole year. I see the bright lights that dot the skyline, I can hear the electric hum of the constantly activated force field, and it frustrates me. Their lives of luxury come at the price of our suffering.

Although I am frustrated now, my feelings of frustration heighten when I am inside. I'm constantly being whisked around by Effie, dolled up by my stylists, and told off by the drunkard. It's the only reason I like coming up here; I like the peace and quiet.

I hear the elevator ding behind me, but my eyes stay trained on the skyline. I already know who it is; it's Peeta. I invited him up here. I like having him around me. He is like a rock for me: sturdy and consistent, unlike Gale who was a tornado of impulsiveness and emotions.

I can feel Peeta sit down next to me, both of us dangling our legs over the edge.

"Isn't this a little dangerous for tributes?" He asks.

I pick up a nearby pebble and throw it at the force field. It bounces back, answering Peeta's question. He chuckles in response.

The wind starts to pick up, and I regret not bringing a sweater out with me. Of all the options from my seemingly endless wardrobe, I chose a short sleeve shirt and light pants, mistaking the weather outside. Noticing my shiver, Peeta quickly slides off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. His hands begin rubbing circles into my back. I freeze, this was a sign of affection I was not used to. He murmurs in my ear saying something about how I'm tense, and a shiver runs down my spine. He merely chuckles again.

Why was I letting him do this? Because I was lonely? Because I'm sad? Because I miss Gale? _Gale._ I remember Gale, but I still don't stop Peeta. I expect to be filled with guilt, but instead, I am actually kinda enjoying this. Peeta puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him. We are very close, but instead of pushing him away, I tuck my head into the nook of his neck. His warm body radiates heat, and I snuggle even closer. Still rubbing circles, I feel all the tension slip away; all my anger, all my frustration, all my anxiety disappear with his touch.

"We should go inside. It's getting late," he whispers into my ear, which only makes me snuggle even closer to him. To this, he laughs, stands up, and scoops me up into his arms. Caught off guard, I squirm and he only holds me tighter. He walks into the elevator and presses the District 12 button. The door slides open, and we can hear Haymitch and Effie talking in the living room. He mouths at me, "Quiet," and proceeds to tip-toe to my room.

Upon entering, he carefully places me on the bed and tucks me in. I smile at him, my eyes still closed, enjoying his touch. I thought he was going to join me, but to my disappointment, he is nearly to the door by the time I open my eyes.

"Peeta," I squeak, and he turns to look at me, his eyes wide with surprise. He must've thought I was sleeping already. "Will you stay with me?" I ask tentatively, waiting for his answer. I like having him around me; his presence is calming and it soothes me. He looks around and hesitates, then I realize how this might look to him.

"I just want to sleep," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. He nods his 'okay,' and climbs into my bed. He puts one arm around me, and looks into my eyes for his approval. I move closer to him, and taking this as a yes, he wraps both arms around me, pulling me even closer. I bask in his warmth and security he provides me. And for the first time in three days, I finally feel safe.

* * *

The sound of someone else's breathing wakes me up. It's a heavier breathing, not like Prim's. I open my eyes, and throw off the sheets, frantically trying to remember where I am. Then I see Peeta shift next to me. _Peeta_. The memories of where I am, more specifically what happened last night, start flooding in. I realize I slept with Peeta. Well, not technically, we actually _only_ slept, but I still feel a blush creep to my cheeks. I get up and decide I _need_ to take a shower after what happened last night. I let Peeta continue sleeping and hop into the shower.

The cool water runs down my back and wakes up my brain. It begins to dawn on me; what the hell did I let happen last night? Why did I let Peeta carry me to my room? Why did I ask him to stay? Why did I let _him_ sleep in my bed? For crying out loud, Gale and I have barely had our first kiss. Why was I letting Peeta in so easily? All these questions are spilling out, too fast for me to even think about answering them. All I know is that whatever happened last night, is making me feel all warm inside. My insides feel like they've been tossed around, flipped upside down, and returned to its original state as if nothing happened. Everything seems like it should be fine, but I know it's not. Tired of my thoughts, I shut off the water and step out of the shower. I slide into a robe and walk outside, half-expecting Peeta to still be in my bed. But he isn't. I can feel my heart sink. No, actually, it doesn't sink, I convince myself that I am only feeling surprised that he left early.

After throwing on some clothes and attempting to towel-dry my hair, I walk outside into the dining room where I see Peeta, Effie, and Haymitch are already seated eating. I choose a seat next to Haymitch, careful to avoid Peeta's eyes.

"Good morning!" Effie says cheerfully.

I inwardly sigh and mumble a "good morning" back.

"Are my tributes ready to show the Gamemakers what they're made of?" Effie asks brightly. I inwardly sigh again. Today is the day we get a score for our skills. Just me and the Gamemakers in one room.

"I hope you all slept well last night because today is a big day!" Effie says, attempting again to start a conversation. I look at Peeta to see if he's listening, but his plate seems to have captured all his attention.

"Well I don't know much about how much sleep they got last night," Haymitch says. "But it was so nice of Peeta to come wake you up, you know, I assumed that's what he doing when he snuck out of your room this morning, Katniss," Haymitch says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. My cheeks heat up. Suddenly, the small pastry on my plate has become far more interesting than our current conversation. I can feel Haymitch's stare on me. Why wasn't he drunk?

Peeta's voice pulls the attention away. "Actually, I _was_ trying to wake her up," he says matter-of-factly, "although, she didn't want to, so I decided to let her sleep. I quietly left the room so as not to wake her." I look up at Effie and she seems to buy the story. Good enough for me.

"Oh right, of course," Haymitch says sweetly, "Effie would you mind leaving the room? I need to talk to our tributes and prepare them for later."

As Effie leaves, Haymitch is glaring daggers at us.

"Did you not forget only one of you can come out of that arena alive?" He hisses. With that, he gets up, grabs the bottle of alcohol off the table, and stalks out the room, letting his warning settle over us. The meaning is crystal clear: don't get attached _sweetheart._


End file.
